The Dark Place
by bite'riot
Summary: when Elena finally came to terms with the existence of things that go 'bump in the night', a new threat emerged which tilted her world completely. warnings and full summary inside.
1. prologue: Dreamcaster

summary: They exist in whispers and lost memories; figments of déja vu who aren't effected by real-world physics. They are Shadewalkers. When Elena finally comes to terms with the reality of _Vampires_ and other things that go _bump in the night_, a new threat emerges which tilts her world completely. Issuing the help of one such Shadewalker, she is thrust even deeper into the unknown.

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disclaimer: don't own. don't sue. _merci _:)

warnings: dark sensual bloodfucked subject matter. AU. OC.

notes: i'm partially basing this on the _television_ plotline while … mostly straying from it. this takes a **BIG** detour from the series into something completely unrelated and then back again. so i'm marking it "alternate universe" until the story returns to where it should be. bare with me, while Elena is still the main focus, everyone has a brief stint in the spotlight; including, but not exclusive to, my OC.

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_prologue_  
DreamCaster

*

She was split in two. Aware of herself yet not in control, paralyzed. The ambient blanched-greyness of this world made her nervous, like watching her first horror film – a constant undertone of suspense and dread and _why the hell am I still watching this?_ A light mist clung to the air and dampened her skin; _autumn_, she surmised. Before she could focus on a landmark, a loud noise exploded, sharper, more condensed than thunder. Her attention snapped toward a scene that appeared to have been unfolding the whole time she was there: Two figures – broad shouldered and pale-white, one falling backward and the other partially wilted against a tree.

A flash was all it took and her entire being was devastated. There was a stillness, a silence so thick it seemed everything slowed down within it. The body went limp the instant its head hit the ground and, in the echo of its last breath, the world sped up and reality winded her. It felt worse than anything she'd experienced. The pain was all-consuming and she suddenly wished it were physical because that would have been easier to deal with. But this … unbalanced chaos that swept through her like frostbite was too much all at once. Her heart _burned_ and _broke_ and she was pulled apart and put together the wrong way.

Her skin didn't fit; shrunken and awkward and too tight.

"_God no. No, no, no, please __**no**_!"

She choked on the lump in her throat, her mouth agape as she _forced_ herself to make a sound. What escape instead was a bloodcurdling shriek, a loaded release of everything that spun and gripped and devoured her mind. The emotion was as numbing as it was torturous. Her vision blurred and her limbs became heavy; she didn't realize she was collapsing until she felt someone catching her. They fell together. She didn't want to be held, didn't want anyone around her to witness this implosion.

She also didn't care that they saw. All she wanted now was to cut herself open and bleed out the pain.

"_I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry…_" The person holding her cradled her firmly, afraid to let her go. She was frantic and destructive and crumpled forward in a trembling heap. Screaming was all she manage, thoughtlessly trying to relieve the anguish that just _wouldn't stop_.

"_No, no, no, **no**, **NO**!!_"

And then, as quickly as the pain had come, it vanished.

*

inspiration: The Funeral – _Band of Horses_


	2. Pulse

notes: thank you for being patient and giving this a chance! hopefully you'll enjoy what's to come :) and believe me when i say, whatever you're speculating is probably _not_ how things will unfold c(:

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_chapter one_  
Pulse

*

Jeremy Gilbert was confused. Face drawn into a soft frown, eyes wandering between the window to his desktop then _her_. Mr. Saltzman had called upon the familiar stranger to read the next few pages of _The Great Gatsby_, reminding the class that she was '_a strong reader_' and '_gave the characters life_'. Apparently she didn't think so, slouching further in her seat, but he insisted and she had begun to read. Glancing around, Jeremy noticed his peers, all bored _half-listening_ expressions, some doodling their daydreams in the margin of their notebooks; he was alone in his pocket of doubt.

Arina Subrova. She sat one row and two seats away from him, a seat he was _so sure_ had belonged to someone else though, mentally counting heads, everyone was present (except Cory Kitching who had been suspended for fighting).

"'_A phrase began to beat in my ears with a sort of heady excitement_,'" She read, the barest hint of an accent lacing her voice, "'_There are only the pursued, the pursuing, the busy, and the tired_.'"

Mr. Saltzman was watching him, eyebrow quirked and the suggestion of a smirk in the corner of his mouth. Jeremy returned his attention to the book opened in front of him, realizing he was two pages behind, still at lunch with _Meyer Wolfshiem_. When he felt his teacher look away, Jeremy shifted his concentration again, letting it fall on Arina Subrova as she continued until the end of the chapter. Strawberry-blonde waves tumbled over her shoulders and around her face like a veil, obstructing Jeremy's examination of her.

"'_Her wan, scornful mouth smiled, and so I drew her up again closer, this time to my face._'"

"Thank you, Arina." Mr. Saltzman turned to the chalkboard, "I know it's Friday and you have better things to do than homework but these are Mr. Ingleton's orders. And, as your substitute, I don't have a choice." His apology was met with a collection of groans and pleas to reconsider. "Hey, be grateful I didn't give you any History assignments, huh?" He chuckled and wrote the list of instructions Mr. Ingleton wanted them to follow in his _teacher-scribble_.

"This bites," Jason Murray, a _more acquaintance than friend_, muttered for Jeremy to hear.

"At least you don't have two extra-credit reports due on Monday." Jeremy sighed, copying Mr. Saltzman's notes in his agenda. "I still have to make up for last term's Math and Science marks."

Jason snorted, "Yeah, well at least they're letting you make up for it! I flunked and there ain't nothing I can do about it."

There was an itch in Jason's tone that Jeremy recognized. The same itch he received from a handful of people last term when his teachers let him play the _personal tragedy_ card as often as he felt like. So it wasn't entirely fair; nor was losing his parents in an accident you'd only see on the news and happen to other people's families. The bell rang, shrilly signalling the end of another school day. Students crammed their books into their bags hastily, eager to escape into the weekend and forget what they had learned until Sunday.

"Alright," Mr. Saltzman called over the sudden burst of scraping chairs and animated conversation, "I'll see you guys next week! Mr. Ingleton wants this in by Wednesday; he'll be back by then so don't even try to bribe me with an extension."

He was largely ignored.

"You wanna come grab a bite to eat? Me and Kayla are going to Mickey D's before band practice." Jason said over his shoulder, already headed for the door.

"Think I'll pass, man, but thanks."

"'Kay, but you better make it up to us tomorrow." Jason jogged his memory at the blank look Jeremy offered. "Shawn's birthday. C'mon man, I know it's been awhile since we all hung out but how could you forget _that_."

Jeremy shrugged, "Shawn and I aren't close?"

With an exasperated, "Just be there!" Jason joined the flow of retreating bodies in the hallway.

Arina was still at her desk, highlighting something in her agenda. Jeremy stalled, rearranging the books in his knapsack, uncertain if he wanted to approach her or investigate further. A niggling pulse in his mind assured him that she'd been in his class since Freshman year – in Mystic Falls since _at least _Middle School – and he simply never took the time to know her. However, his memories kept tugging away from her whenever he tried to conjure one. As though she'd been _just a little off-screen_ in his life-movie.

The same quiet pull he felt whenever he thought of Vicki and her abrupt departure to wherever the hell she went.

"Uhm," A dainty cough drew Jeremy into the present. "Can I help you with something?"

He was openly staring at Arina Subrova. And she was openly puzzled. Books neatly packed in her oversized leather purse and sweater on, she had been ready to leave when she caught sight of Jeremy in her peripheral.

"I … " _Think of something_! "Do you have the rest of Saltzman's notes? I didn't finish taking them down before he erased them." He lied, impressed with himself when he saw the clean blackboard and their absent teacher.

"Oh, yeah, of course." She stepped closer while shuffling through her bag. "Do you mind if you copy them now? I'm going to need them tonight."

Jeremy took the notebook she handed him and slipped it between his Math textbook and English binder, his eyes never leaving her face. "Thanks." And then, "You're … gonna do the assignment … _tonight_?" He didn't try to conceal his surprise and Arina didn't bother to call him on it, instead answering as if it were obvious.

"I have better things to do with my weekend than stress about homework."

"Good plan." Jeremy admitted, pushing himself away from his desk and standing. "It's just that … I sort of told my sister I'd meet her after school for a lift home. I'm out of bus fare."

Together they left the classroom, a glimpse of consideration in the twitch of Arina's mouth. "I have Art Club in ten minutes." She declared, "You can sit with me while I finish what I'm working on for class, maybe do that Math extra-credit Frazer gave you, and then my brother can give you a ride?" She added with a grin, "I'm good with numbers, I can even help you."

Jeremy was halfway between astonished and unsettled because, "You know about my extra-credit?"

"Yeah. I sit behind you in Math … I heard Ms. Frazer telling you about it."

Didn't Sarah Harrowman sit behind him in Math? He urged his mind to clear away the cobwebs and _work_. That gentle throb rose behind his eyes and he remembered that, no, Sarah had been transferred to a higher class due to way above-average grades.

"Well … " He had nothing to lose. "Sure."

*

inspiration: Wire to Wire – _Razorlight _(instrumental)

**_please note_: there is no "instrumental" version of this song however, it was the music itself that inspired me and not the lyrics.


End file.
